


Migraine

by fondofit



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fondofit/pseuds/fondofit
Summary: For the FFXV Kink MemeClarus finds Cor hiding in his office with the mother of all migraines. Cor is used to enduring headaches because he's had them since his youth and Clarus is used to dealing with them but this one is worse than usual.Bonus if Clarus already knows what's up because he reads it in Cor's body language.





	Migraine

Clarus finds it odd that his office is black as pitch when he walks into it. He could have sworn that all the drapes had been drawn, allowing for the afternoon sunlight to brighten up the room. There was only one reason he could think of why the room was as dark as it was, so he waits the couple minutes for his eyes adjust to the light. When the room becomes bright enough for him to see his desk clearly, he goes over to put down the file of paperwork he had in hand and turns to the couch to the left of him. 

Lying across that couch was one, Cor Leonis, with his arm draped over his eyes. 

Clarus shook his head, knowing exactly why the Marshall was in his office. The telltale lack of greeting or any sort of recognition of his entrance gave it away. Cor had been having more migraines as of late and Clarus assumed it was because of a lack of water, rest and general care for his own well-being. Though the poor guy had been plagued with migraines since as long as he could remember. A headache on the road was awful enough when he was fifteen and he could only imagine how bad they were now fifteen years later.

This was not the first time Cor had escaped to Clarus’s office to rest-out his headaches, nor would it be the last. Cor had told him in the past that he did it because the office itself was secluded and no one from the Crownsguard (except for Monica, who would be the only person allowed to know of Cor’s whereabouts) would dare bother the King’s Shield in the middle business hours without an appointment. That, and Clarus has one of the best couches in the whole of the Citadel.

Kneeling down next to the Marshal, Clarus brought his hand over to lightly run his fingers through the shortly trimmed hair sticking out from under Cor’s arm. Cor sighs, at the touch, but makes no move to take his arm away.

“That bad, huh?”

Clarus tries to keep his voice down, knowing that sometimes the louder the noise the more it affects Cor’s senses. 

There’s an anguished whine before Cor responds with, “This is the worst by far.”

“Do you need anything right now? Washcloth? Pain relievers?”

“A warm washcloth would be nice. I’d also bring your trash bin over. I don’t want to get sick all over this couch.”

Clarus chuckled, glad his friend didn’t lose the bite in his words. He wasn’t that far out of it yet. 

“You mess up this couch at all and you’ll be seeing the bill for cleaning.”

“Mmhn,” was all Clarus got in reply. He stands back up, saying he’ll return with a whisper. The washroom connected to his office was small, but it had all he needed to help Cor until he could make it home himself. Clarus takes one of the soft, plush washcloths and runs it under the sink, making sure it’s not too hot and not too cool. Anything to help the relieve the burning pressure building in Cor’s head. He keeps the cloth in one hand, ignoring the cool water trickling down his forearm as he picks up his wastebin and moves it by Cor’s head next to the couch. 

“You’re going to have to take your arm off for the washcloth unless you want your sleeve to get soaked.”

Cor groans a little in response, his voice strained as he says, “Clarus, my sinus cavity is burning and my eyes can’t handle light without it making everything worse. Just give me a second.” 

Clarus waits for Cor to remove his arm. His eyes stay closed and his face is contorted in pain. He brings his hand up to the bridge of his nose and puts pressure using his thumb and pointer finger. Clarus makes sure the cloth is folded into a rectangle and drapes it over Cor’s forehead. 

Cor sighs in relief and Clarus can only wait for the cloth to slowly whittle down the pain in his friend’s head. He brings his hand over and begins to run his fingers through Cor’s short, cropped hair. He could almost feel Cor’s body relax, with how tense it had been before.

“How long today?” Clarus asks, his voice just above a whisper.

It take a moment, but Cor murmurs, “What time is it now?”

“About six fifteen.”

“Three hours ago.”

Clarus tsks, continuing his fingers’ ministrations, “This one’s a doozy, huh? Have you had enough water?”

“Today? Probably not. Right now, I’m afraid to put anything else in my stomach. I’m at the point where throwing up seems like a good idea for relief.”

Clarus frowns, “I really hate it when you do that.”

“It’s not like I enjoy doing it.”

“I know. I know.” He drags his short nails across Cor’s scalp, causing the other to gasp. “Feel good?”

“Just keep doing it. It’s a good distraction.”

Clarus responds with a nod that Cor couldn’t see, but he continues the light scratches, massaging his fingers lightly into Cor’s scalp. 

It's a while before Cor speaks again.

“As good as that feels... I still feel like I'm going to hurl.”

“You do what you need to, but I'll go get you some water and mouthwash.”

“Mm.”

Clarus gets up after one last brush of his hand and goes back towards the washroom. Cor never liked feeling vulnerable around anyone, even if they were watching over him while he was sick. When he was fifteen, with one of his bad migraines that lasted for hours, one of them would stand in front of the washroom watching out for him until he was done. Not even Regis was allowed into the room. Cor was just stubborn like that.

Clarus tries to ignore the retching noises coming from the other room.

Once Clarus was sure Cor had finished, he brought out the waterglass and mouthwash. He saw that the younger man was now sitting on the ground, head lolled to the side resting on the couch.

“Feeling better?” Clarus asks as he hands the mouthwash to Cor. Cor takes it with a shaky hand.

“More than I did a minute ago. Pain is still there.” 

Cor takes a swig of the iridescent blue liquid and spits it into the trash.

“Feel like you'll need the trash bin again?”

“I really hope not.”

“Then I'll call for someone to pick it up.” 

Cor looks like he's about to protest but thinks better of it. Clarus makes the call and returns to the couch.

“Think you can take something now?”

Cor nods, holding out his hand. Clarus drops the painkillers onto his palm and then hands over the water. Cor kicks back the medication, chasing it with a good few gulps of water.

“Thanks.”

Clarus chuckles, “Now, I know you aren’t feeling well when you start to thank me out of the blue.”

“Shut it and help me back up on the couch,” Cor bites back holding his hand out for Clarus to take.

Clarus grips his hand and tugs, helping Cor back onto the couch. Once Cor settles next to Clarus, he nudges him with his elbow.

“Scoot over.”

The older man scoffs, but concedes, moving over to the end of the couch. He makes just enough room for Cor to lean over and rest his head in Clarus’s lap. Clarus can feel Cor let out a deep sigh as he makes himself comfortable. 

“Don't you dare say anything.”

“What? Like how you always seem to end our time together with you in my lap in some way?”

“Ugh, I said be quiet.”

Clarus laughs, his fingers picking up from where they left off running through Cor’s hair. Cor hums, satisfied with the attention and allows himself to be lulled to sleep.


End file.
